


A night to remember

by Adara_Rose



Series: Seashelly Fictober 2018 [8]
Category: Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Escorts, Fictober, Fictober 2018, First Dates, Kinktober, Kinktober 2018, M/M, Pre-Slash, Sex Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-28 05:20:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16234988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adara_Rose/pseuds/Adara_Rose
Summary: Shelly needs a date for a university function. Enter "Seaplane", a gorgeous young escort.





	A night to remember

He’d been told that the man was handsome, but Shelly thought that was a gross understatement. Gorgeous was a better word, or hell, stunning. He prowled through the room as if he owned it, heading straight for the Professor where he stood clutching his drink as if afraid he’d drop it.

“Professor Oberon?” He asked, sounding surprisingly polite, and Shelly tried desperately not to ogle the way the suit fitted his body perfectly. “I’m Seaplane. I apologize for having kept you waiting.”

“That’s… that’s alright” Shelly stammered, hating how awkward he was. But the angel in front of him only smiled, lighting up the room as he did. 

“Thank you. I try to be early for meetings, but the traffic was against me this time. Buy me a drink?”

Shelly did so, unable to resist twinkling dark eyes.

 

“So,” Seaplane said when he was about half-way through his margarita, “tell me about this party you’re taking me to. What sort of people will there be? How do you want me to introduce myself? Or should I just stay in a corner, acting mysterious?”

“I think it will be best if I introduce you as my student. It’s a gathering of most of the intellectual people in the city, after all.”

“Excellent. What is my major?” Seaplane’s eyes were earnest, and it was more than a little disconcerting. 

“You… uh…” Shelly scrambled to think of a reply, his brain distracted by the way Seaplane’s lips were smooth and slightly pouty, as if begging to be kissed.

“Yes?” he arched an eyebrow, clearly amused.

“Archaeology.” Shelly finally managed to say without stuttering, feeling proud of himself.

“Good, a subject I’m interested in. I won’t have to do much research.”

“Research?” Shelly was confused.

“Of course. I always endeavor to give utmost satisfaction. If I can converse about what my major is supposed to be, I’ll fit in better.”

They talked a bit further, about details and times, and Shelly was amazed that Seaplane was so particular about the details. When asked, the young man only said “I endeavor to give satisfaction.”

Eventually, he told Shelly a time and place to pick him up for the gala.

 

“He is quite handsome,” Doctor Fielding said as she sipped her champagne. “Your student, was it?”

“Yes, one of my brightest.” Shelly lied through his teeth, hoping he didn’t come across as faking it. He wasn’t a very good liar.

They both looked over to where Seaplane were entertaining a small group of older men. Shelly identified the committee of the Society of Archeological Pursuits, a group he was very keen to get into, even if they were a bunch of old fogies.

Just as he was about to make his way over and intercept, Seaplane excused himself and slid over to him, smiling in a way that shouldn’t be allowed anywhere.

“We haven’t met, Miss-?” His voice was nothing but polite.

“That’s Mrs, dear. Fielding.”

“Oh, Doctor Fielding! I beg your pardon. I read your book. Most fascinating.”

Doctor Fielding beamed at him, and Shelly wondered if it was true.

“How lovely to see a young man so devoted to his studies.”

“Why, thank you. I always endeavor to do my best.” Seaplane put his empty champagne glass in the tray of a passing waiter, then turned his lethal smiled on Shelly.

“How many papers do I have to grade for you in exchange for a dance, Sir?”

Fielding laughed.

“Better be careful of this one, Shelly!”

You have no idea, he thought. He tried his best to smile back.

“At least fifteen.”

“That’s a deal. Come dance with me.”

 

Later that night, as the taxi stopped outside of the house where Shelly was reasonably confident that Seaplane — and wasn’t it odd to not know his real name? — lived. The young man turned to look at him, that same lethal smile playing across his lips. 

“You know,” he said as he placed a hand on Shelly’s thigh, far too high up to be anything but an invitation, “sex usually costs extra.”

“What-” Shelly began, but was silenced as Seaplane leaned in for a kiss.

“But for you” he breathed against Shelly’s lips, “I’ll make an exception.”


End file.
